


Forever Yours

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beta? What's that? Is it tasty?, Emperor Voldemort - Freeform, Harry and Voldemort flirting, Harry in Slytherin Colors, Harry in Voldemort's lap, House Elf Assistance Bill, Like seriously half the fic is them flirting, M/M, No Beta, UST, because it needs a tag of its own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Harry and Voldemort flirting. I guess that's basically it?A Harry-Voldemort compromise fic that ends up as Voldemort wins AU





	Forever Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arualiaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arualiaa/gifts), [mendacium_dulce (lux_veritatis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lux_veritatis/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [mendacium_dulce (lux_veritatis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lux_veritatis/pseuds/mendacium_dulce) in the [October_Flash_Fest_Part_Two](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/October_Flash_Fest_Part_Two) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Handsome!Dark!Sane!Voldemort has successfully manipulated Harry Potter into joining his cause.
> 
> The two of them attend a political event with the purpose of informing the public of this change and of swaying some Light wizards to join them. 
> 
> Their interactions may or may not involve Voldemort personally dressing up his Chosen One or Harry, clad in green and black and silver, being draped over Voldemort's lap like a good sub as Voldemort speaks to the people present.

"The time has come," Harry sighs and rubs his arms. He is excited to show this ‘reformed’ relationship between himself and Voldemort. But at the same time, Hermione's dubious looks and Ron's cold silence were hard to ignore. Would the Order’s initial reaction be the same?

When Harry had outlined the plan earlier to his friends, they had pointed out all the flaws in it. It was like a bucket of cold water, splashing on his skin, raising goose bumps and leaving behind a trail of burning cold marks lingering on his flesh. Would his family also doubt him so? Will they leave him when he shows just how much he has changed or will they think Voldemort is controlling Harry somehow? Will they consider him a lost cause and throw him away? Or will they still stand against his and Voldemort’s new world? Will their blood be on Harry’s hands?

A warm body presses against his back and arms wrap around his stomach. As his fiancee buries his head in his hair and takes in a deep breath, Harry sighs, leaning back and sinking in the warmth. 

It reminds him of when Ron and Hermione had returned back to him, days after their confrontation, and accepted it as the fastest, most bloodless and the _ only _ way to end the war before it even begins. He had felt the same warmth then, like a bright ray of light in the frosty loneliness that always grips his heart without his friends, without his family, without Hedwig, _ and without Voldemort _.

The war had been put on hold as Voldemort intentionally lost some ground to buy time. Time, in which Harry, Ron and Hermione hashed out a treaty between themselves. It was a long fight, took almost 3 years and an engagement to settle. But in the end, they all agreed.

And today is the culmination of all their efforts.

"It is indeed," Voldemort agrees. A gentle hand turns his face to look in the mirror. Red eyes meet green in the mirror's surface and Voldemort's eyes glint, the almost obsessive possessiveness that fills the hole in Harry's heart showing in those maroon depths.

They stand there in silence, enjoying the quiet embrace and beat of hearts pulsing in sync. Long, pale fingers caress his neck before moving down to smooth over his shirt. The touch burns through the fabric of his shirt, leaving burning desire in their wake.

"Haven't you teased me enough for today?" Harry asks breathlessly. His eyes follow Voldemort's movements in the mirror and skin flushes under his collar.

"Never," Voldemort promises darkly. With one hand now firmly pressed against his stomach, pressing him back and closer to the Dark Lord behind him, the other trails upwards to stroke his neck. And Harry knows _ exactly _ what Voldemort is thinking when those fingers linger at a particularly sensitive spot in the hollow of his throat. 

"You possessive snake," his voice breaks as he remembers the events that resulted in that particular hickey hidden underneath layers of muggle makeup and disguising charms.

"I am just making sure the tie isn't twisted anywhere," Voldemort's tone is innocent as he whispers in Harry's ear. His fingers have still not stopped their leisurely exploration and Harry cannot stop his fondness. He turns his head and kisses those sharp cheekbones gently, adoringly.

"You were the one who dressed me. Are you saying you made a mistake?" Harry teases. Voldemort smiles that illegal smile and all the breath left in Harry's lungs suddenly disappear. At close range, Voldemort is like the sun, the stars, the sky in a starry night and how can Harry not feel loved, being at the center of this man's universe?

"You are very distracting, my precious," Voldemort's breath fans over his lips as the man tempts him with a close brush of their lips. "Are you saying you do not find my effort in dressing you _ pleasing _?"

"I do," Harry leans in, wanting more than that mere brush, to fulfill the promises that heated gaze held for him. Voldemort, the absolute evil bastard that he is, turns his head and avoids his kiss. "Don't say it like you did it for me. You enjoy dressing me up in your colors, you smug prick."

Voldemort pulls back and gives a very appreciative look-over as the younger stands there feeling bereft and cold. A smug smile indeed surfaces on his criminally handsome face.

"You look beautiful, clad in green and silver, and black, my Harry," Voldemort declares. "My colors and yours, joined together to adorn your exquisite presence." Despite his dramatic flare, his words sincere and Harry feels the warm flush of earlier return in full force.

"Yo-you just want me out of these," Harry murmurs and Voldemort chuckles.

"Indeed I do," he concedes. Offering his arm for Harry to hold onto, Voldemort promises softly and sweetly, like ambrosia from honeyed lips, "I intend to make good on my words too, after we are done with this evening." 

This time, the reminder of their upcoming evening does not leave him uncertain and afraid. Because this time, he knows that regardless of what happens, he will always have Voldemort.

*********

Voldemort is true to his promise. The whole evening, Harry holds onto his arm with a death grip, appreciative of the older man's presence but fearful still of the thoughts hidden behind those thoughtful faces of his friends and families.

The Dark Lord does not seem to mind Harry's grip, nor the marks it will leave behind or his need for comfort. Instead, the man takes time to frequently pat his hand in reassurance, runs his fingers through his messy hair in an effort to tame his wayward strands without giving a thought to their observers. Every touch gives him more confidence to face his reality and every caress warms his body to the core.

And when the people are charmed and the treaty is signed publicly, Voldemort drags Harry from his adjacent seat to where the Dark Lord is lounging on the throne like the emperor he now is. 

Instinctively, Harry leans into Voldemort's side, sinking in his idle touches. An arm wraps around his waist oh-so-casually. To an observer, it may look like the arm just happened to stray there as he was resting it on the throne's arm. But Harry knows, and he knows Ron and Hermione see it too, that that arm around his waist is a subtle show of possessiveness. It is Voldemort showing his claim on Harry for the first time in front of everyone, and the thought sends a thrill of possessiveness through Harry as well. 

Harry moves closer to his Dark Lord. He starts by pressing their thighs close together even as he convinces another of their political supporters into funding their new free education program. He lays an arm around Voldemort's neck, gently caressing his nape as Harry smiles wryly at Hermione's enthusiasm for their new House Elf Assistance Bill. He rests his leg on top of Voldemort's in a playful gesture as he laughs about a joke Remus and Narcissa are telling about the Marauders.

Before he knows it, Harry is sitting in Voldemort's lap, his legs over his Dark Lord's long ones, his arms holding onto Voldemort's neck and their faces pressed close together, cheek-to-cheek. Before he knows it, Harry lies draped over Voldemort's lap, their friends, family, followers and allies looking at the scene with an unknown emotion in their eyes yet following each word with rapt attention.

It occurs to Harry then, that they must look similar to the legends of Kings, Emperors and Pharaohs holding their Court, as said Court listens to their words with reverence in their gaze.

For they are grateful, each and every man and woman in this room, that the war is over. That they will not loose any more family for a war of ideology, that the changes each side wants to make will finally happen after the incompetent Ministry has been removed and if they need to compromise for it, they will. If they need to see Harry Potter married off to the Dark Lord for it, they will do so happily and give their blessings.

It is good then, Harry reflects, that it is less of a sacrifice and more of a cherry on cake for him.

Giving in to his relief at no longer being the Chosen One, the Martyr and Sacrifice on the altar of The Greater Good, Harry gives into his urge and hugs his Dark Lord's waist. He burrows his head in the crook of Voldemort's neck, kissing the warm skin there reverently, even as Voldemort's fingers soothingly pet his hair.

Harry knows he is in too deep, his feelings for Voldemort go beyond the ideological and political alliance they originally had. But it is not like Harry alone fell in this twisted love. Voldemort's actions speak louder and more clearly those words he knows his Dark Lord whispers in his ears when he thinks Harry is asleep. 

_ They will both fall together, and live forever._

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift to both Menda and Aru. I saw you both discussing this while I was scrolling on discord and then today, I saw this prompt and just _had_ to write it. It's not much, but I hope you both enjoy this <3 ~


End file.
